Chapter 843
Maurice sat back, leisurely sipping his coffee, as if the world outside his window was a calm lake on a Sunday
morning.
But when Marguerite opened the door, she was met with two burly bodyguards, their expressions as
impenetrable as the Great Wall.
"Miss Lockwood, I'm afraid you need to step back inside," one of them said, blocking her path with all the
warmth of a cold winter breeze.
Marguerite's eyes flashed with anger. "Move aside!"
The bodyguard didn't flinch. "Miss Lockwood, please don't make this harder than
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it needs to be. If you take another step, we'll have to intervene."
Clutching the handle of her suitcase, Marguerite's knuckles turned white, fury searing through her veins. She
was no match for these men, and she knew it, but she stood her ground.
Maurice finally set his cup down with a deliberate grace, walking over to
Marguerite. He placed one hand gently on her shoulder and with the other, pulled the door shut with a soft click.
Marguerite glared at him, her voice a low growl, "How long do you plan to freeload here?"
Maurice's eyes twinkled with amusement, "Oh, until, let's say, Silas and Violet tie the knot?"
He was still hung up on Silas. What on Earth had they discussed after leaving the apartment last night?
"Silas is just a business partner, Maurice. Can you stop with the paranoia?"
"Paranoia?" Maurice raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I know how men think,
Marguerite. The way he looks at you... I'm not blind."
He paused, a teasing smile spreading across his face. "Marguerite, I'm genuinely curious are your feelings for
Frederick as deep as you make them out to be?"
Her eyes were filled with defiance. "What are you trying to say?"
His gaze traveled over her, settling on the scarf around her neck. With a devilish charm, he lifted the edge of it
with his finger.
"Deep? Hardly," he chuckled. "Otherwise, why would you cozy up to Silas right after Frederick executed Teresa?"
The tension inside Marguerite snapped like a brittle twig. The scarf around her neck was a gift from Silas, one
she hadn't meant to wear, but her friend Hayes insisted it suited her.
Marguerite brushed Maurice's hand away, her voice shaky. "I have nothing to explain. You know he's engaged."
Maurice shrugged, unbothered, his lips curling down in a mock frown. "You do realize that keeping someone
against their will is illegal, right?"
She bit her lip, regretting her words the moment they left her mouth. Arguing legalities with Maurice? She must
be out of her mind. He'd skirted the law before, always managing to slip away unscathed.
Yet Maurice's eyes, sharp and knowing, met hers. He corrected her calmly, "Marguerite, this is a lawful society.
I'm just a guest. You're free to cand go."
Free? What kind of freedom was this? Was it freedom when Janie tracked her every move to and from work? Or
when she couldn't take a step without someone shadowing her?
Her gaze turned to Maurice, filled with derision and growing hatred. Her eyes, bloodshot and seething, bore into
him as she spoke, each word a bullet. "Maurice, one day, | will destroy you."
His pupils flickered with surprise for the briefest moment before he nodded with a smile that didn't reach his
eyes. "Well then, we'll go down together."
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